Being a memory play, it is dimly lighted, it is sentimental. It is not realistic.

Openings come quickly, sometimes, like blue space in running clouds. A complete overcast, then a blaze of light.

Stella: And when he comes back I cry on his lap like a baby.. [she smiles to herself] Blanche: I guess that is what is meant by being in love.

The scene is memory and is therefore nonrealistic. Memory takes a lot of poetic license. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart.

There is only one true aristocracy . . . and that is the aristocracy of passionate souls!

To be free is to have achieved your life.

I always said little Truman had a voice so high it could only be detected by bats.